


Lies

by prepare4trouble



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: And He Hates Them, Foggy Gets Powers, Gen, Inhumans (Marvel), Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson Friendship, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6476530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prepare4trouble/pseuds/prepare4trouble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foggy gains the ability to tell when someone is lying.  It makes things difficult.</p><p>Kinkmeme prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt at the kinkmeme
> 
> Foggy gains the ability to always tell, with 100% accuracy, when people are lying. At first he thinks this will fix things with him and Matt and they can be friends again. And it does, at first.
> 
> Then it ruins his relationship with everyone else.
> 
> http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/7552.html?thread=14816384#cmt14816384
> 
>  
> 
> This may not be exactly what you were hoping for, because frankly it took on a life of its own. But I hope it's acceptable nonetheless.

"You believe me, don't you?"

Foggy hesitated.  He didn't believe him.  But on the other hand, he had a case to win, and if a client thought his lawyer believed him guilty, it could complicate matters, and this particular client had a very rich father who happened to be a friend of Jeri Hogarth. Complicating matters would not be a good idea.

"You don't, do you?  You think I did it."

The police had video surveillance footage of him breaking into a convenience store to steal beer. When it turned out that the clerk was still there, he had pushed him to the ground with a wave of his arm. He was still in hospital, in a coma. ”No,” Foggy assured him.  "I don't think you did it, I..."

The kid gasped.  "You're lying," he said.

"I'm not," Foggy promised him.  “Simon, I know you’re an inhuman. I know your powers are new. It must be difficult to control them at first, I don’t think you fully understood what you were…”

Simon’s eyes were wide with panic. “I’m not the only one that got powers when that crap got dumped into the food chain!” he said. “Think about it. I’ve got enemies, kids at school who are jealous of my dad’s money. I’m being set up or something. Why would I break into a convenience store? I’m rich, I can buy whatever the hell I want. You think I couldn’t get beer if I wanted it?”

Foggy nodded. Everything he was saying made sense, except for one small problem. “What about the security camera footage? If you want to plead innocent, we’re going to have to come up with a way to explain…”

“My powers don’t do that! They don’t hurt people!"

Foggy wondered what exactly they did do. “The problem with Inhuman powers is there’s so much variety that it’s impossible to prove someone can’t do something. It’s…” He broke off suddenly as the kid's hands touched his temples and began to squeeze tightly. 

Simon stared straight into his eyes, gripping tighter. Foggy grabbed his assailant’s wrists and tried to pull the hands away, but they remained in place as though held by some magnetic force.

"Let go! Stop it!" Foggy yelled, starting to panic now as a pressure seemed to build up inside his skull.  It appeared to come not from the hands at his temples. But from somewhere deep within his head.  It didn't hurt, but it was uncomfortable and the discomfort was growing.

Then, as suddenly as he had started, he stopped, withdrew his hands and sat back down. The pressure inside his head ceased. Foggy realized he was shaking. He drew a hand across his brow and it came away damp. He took a deep breath. “Whatever that was…”

"I'm innocent," the kid said.  "I didn't do this."

Foggy believed him.  A certainty that the words he was hearing were the truth washed over him, undeniable and irrefutable.  His client was innocent.

Rather than answer, shaken and confused, Foggy simply stood up and walked out of the door.  
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"Hey, Marci, wanna get a drink later?' Foggy asked.  His heart was still pounding from his experience that afternoon, and he really needed alcohol as soon as possible. ”I had this crazy client I want to tell you about.” 

There was a pause at the other end of the telephone line before Marci answered.  "I'm busy tonight. Tomorrow?”

Foggy went still, frowning.  "You're lying," he said.  "You don't have plans,"

"Um," Marci said, and Foggy imagined the confused look on her face.  "Okay. Since when are you Mr Psychic?  All those weird clients rubbing off on you or something?"

"Sorry," Foggy said.  "It's been a strange day, I think my brain/mouth filter is switched off.  I don’t know why I said that, of course you're not lying."  But she was, and saying something that he knew to be untrue left a literal bad taste in his mouth.  He poured a glass of water from the jug on his desk, and took a swig.

"Well, as it happens you're half right," Marci said.  "Or entirely right, it depends on your definition, I've made plans with myself to drink a bottle of wine and watch Netflix in my pajamas and I’m looking forward to it, so I really don’t want to cancel.”

That was true.  He didn't know how he knew, but he did.  Foggy raised his free hand to his brow and began to massage it.

'Foggy, you okay?" Marci said.

He shook himself out of his reverie.  "Yeah," he said.  "I think I need an early night myself, actually.  But tomorrow sounds good, if you're not too pissed at me now?"

"I'll see you after work," Marci said.

Foggy hung up and massaged his temples with the fingers of both hands.  As he did, he felt the ghost of the touch of his client earlier, and he shuddered.  
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"Hey, Dave, right?"

The intern looked startled as he glanced up from his cellphone held under the desk.  Surreptitiously, he slid the device into his pocket, then smiled.  "That's right, sir,"

Foggy waved a hand dismissively at the title.  "Foggy," he said.  "Or Mr Nelson if you really must.  What were you doing just then?"

"Uh..." Dave frowned.  "Checking I hadn't missed any calls from my girlfriend.  She's flying into Phoenix today to visit her folks, I just want to make sure she gets there safe."

It was half true.  His girlfriend was flying today, but he hadn't been checking for calls.  The juxtaposition of the lie and the truth made his head spin.  He blinked.  "Are you busy?"

"Sir?"

He sighed and didn't bother to correct him a second time.  "Are you busy right now?  Are you doing anything you can't postpone for five minutes?"

Dave shook his head, and Foggy grabbed a nearby chair, turned it around and placed it on the opposite side of Dave's desk.  "It's just a little experiment, okay?  I want you to answer some questions for me, but I want some of the answers to be lies.  Not all of them, just randomly choose when you want to tell the truth and when you want to lie, okay?"

Dave looked confused but he nodded.

"What's your favorite food?" Foggy asked him.  
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Foggy took a deep breath and hesitated before he raised his hand and knocked on the door,  It had been a while since he had been here.  Once, he would have thought nothing of pounding on Matt's door in the middle of the night.  Now, things were a little different.

He didn't really expect an answer.  He expected Matt to be out in the city, fighting, earning new scars.  It was partly that certainty and partly the courage granted to him by the beer swilling around his stomach that convinced him to raise his hand and knock on the door.

He knocked three times, loud, but not enough to wake the neighbors.  Not this time.  To his surprise, the door opened and he found himself staring at a face that he hadn't seen in months,

"Hey, Matt," he said sheepishly.

Matt didn’t look the least bit surprised to see him. Of course he didn’t, he would have known who was outside his door before Foggy said anything. He would have recognized his heartbeat or his breathing or something equally weird. Hell, he probably noticed him entering the building or walking up the street.

“What’s wrong?” Matt asked him. The question was sharp, to the point. Worried.

Foggy shrugged. “Why does something have to be wrong?”

Matt stepped aside, allowing him entry to the apartment. Foggy walked through and Matt closed the door behind him. “What’s wrong?” he repeated.

“I…” Foggy sighed and leaned against the wall. “Shit. I have no idea how to even begin.”

Matt turned away from him and walked further into the apartment. He sat down on the sofa and waited.

Foggy sighed. “Later, okay? First, let me ask a few questions. How’ve you been?”  
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"And how did this happen?" Marci asked him.  She teased her straw with her lips and tongue before taking a long sip of the cocktail in her glass.

"One of my clients," Foggy explained.  “An Inhuman. It’s something he can do, apparently.  He wanted me to believe him when he said he was innocent, so he... I don't know, he grabbed my head and suddenly bang! Superpowers!"

"Hardly superpowers," Marci told him.  "Also, isn't that a total violation?  You can't feel good about someone doing that to you.  Did he even ask your permission?  Will it wear off? Does this mean that you’re an Inhuman too now?”

Foggy rested his head in his hands and shook it from side to side while staring down at the table.  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know anything. I just got up and left him there in my office. By the time I went back he was gone. He was innocent though, I know that with 100% certainty now, so there's that."

Marci frowned as she mixed her drink with the straw. “You need to call him and ask,” she said. “And frankly, whether it’s going to wear off or not, you should be suing him, not defending him. You said he’s got a rich dad, right?”

“I can’t,” Foggy said. “His father is friends with Jeri Hogarth. That’s the reason she took him on as a client in the first place.”

“Well, shit.” Marci said. She shrugged. “Okay, look at it this way, in our line of work, it can only be useful, right? I mean, it’s probably against the rules to use it, but as long as nobody finds out.”

Foggy looked at her. She genuinely believed that to be true. He shook his head. “Do you have any idea how messed up it is to have someone knowing whether you’re telling the truth? Every little white lie, they know about it. You can’t have any secrets because sooner or later they’re going to find out, you can’t even bend the truth because they’d know. How can anyone have a proper friendship with someone like that, let alone a relationship?" Foggy frowned and took a long drag of his beer. “Useful is not the word I’d use,” he said.

Marci’s eyes widened slightly. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” she said.

He wished he hadn’t told her. He still wasn’t sure exactly what it was that they had, but he knew that this was going to destroy it.

“I’ve just got a really good imagination.” Foggy told her. He took another sip of his drink. “Do me a favor?” he said.

Marci nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone,” she promised. “Believe me, this is too good for me to not keep hanging over you."

Foggy nodded. She was telling the truth, and he didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.  
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Foggy stood, arms folded across his body, several paces back from the desk where his client sat. He knew it was a defensive pose, he didn’t care. He had reason to defend himself. The last time they had been in a room together, the kid had attacked him.

“What the hell did you do to me?” Foggy asked him.

Simon stared down at the desk in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Foggy nodded. At least he was telling the truth about that. “Forget sorry. Undo it.”

The kid sucked in his bottom lip and began chewing on it, and Foggy felt a sense of horror began to overwhelm him.

“You can undo it, right?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t even realize what I was doing. Until the other day, I didn’t know I could give my power to other people. It’s just so frustrating telling the truth and knowing that the other person doesn’t believe you, I had to make you believe, you know? I did it on instinct.”

Foggy turned and began to pace the room. “You have to try,” he said. “I don’t want it.”

Simon winced as the truth in Foggy’s words hit him hard. He nodded, pushed out his chair and got to his feet. Foggy fought the urge to back away as he approached.

The hands touched his head in exactly the same place as the previous day and Foggy squeezed his eyes tightly closed. Nothing happened. There was no feeling of pressure, no sense of the ability being taken from him. Nothing but the uncomfortable sensation of clammy hands on his face. Simon released his grip and Foggy opened his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Simon told him. “I can’t.”

Foggy felt sick as the certain knowledge that the kid was telling the truth washed over him. He rubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath.

“It’s not so bad,” Simon promised him. “It’s actually kinda useful to always know when people are lying to you.”

Foggy shook his head.

“Maybe it wears off,” Simon suggested.

“Shut up,” Foggy told him. “Just… just stop talking.”

Simon nodded. “I’ll go,” he said. “I’ll find another lawyer. But if I work out how to undo it, I promise I’ll call you.”

Foggy drummed his fingers on his desk.  “No, wait,” he said. “You’re innocent, and you won’t find another lawyer that believes you. And it just so happens that I’m an excellent lawyer. So sit down, we need to talk about the case.”  
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“How do you cope with knowing when people are lying?” Foggy sat on Matt’s sofa, leaning forward and staring at his own hands, which were clasped tightly together, twisting in their own grip.

“There are times it’s not so great,” Matt said. “Sometimes it’s hurtful when you know someone is deliberately trying to mislead you, but in general it’s not something I have to ‘cope with’, it’s just something I can do. And most of the time, it’s pretty useful.”

Foggy sighed and nodded. So people kept telling him.

“But I always knew how people might react,” Matt told him. “Which is why I don’t advertise it. Why?”

“What kind of lies have you noticed?”

Matt frowned. “What’s this about, Foggy?”

“Just humor me, okay?”

Matt got to his feet, walked to the kitchen and returned with two bottles of beer. He handed one to Foggy and opened the other. “Remember in our second year at college, I tried to get a job for a bit of extra money? I was turned down for every single one. They all said someone else interviewed better, but really none of them wanted to hire someone with a disability. Didn’t fit the image.”

Foggy opened his drink and took a swig. “Their loss,” he said.

“And mine. But it’s good to know who I can trust. It’s also useful to know which clients are innocent,” Matt said.

“True, if you hadn’t known Karen was innocent…”

Matt nodded. “Exactly."

“So what would you do if you found out someone else could do the same thing?”

Matt shrugged. “People can. I told you about my teacher.”

“Old blind guy, likes to train kids to be soldiers. Yeah, you mentioned him. Sounds lovely.”

“Foggy, what’s this about?”

Foggy shook his head. “I’d say you’re not going to believe me,” he said, “but obviously, you will, so…”

Matt didn’t say anything. Silence fell over the room. Foggy shifted uncomfortably, trying to fight the urge to fill it.

“Okay, here’s what I didn’t tell you the other day,” he said. “I have a client who can tell if someone is telling the truth. Long story short, I didn’t believe something he said, so he got angry, decided to prove it was true by sharing his ability with me, and now he can’t take it away again.” 

He watched Matt for his reaction. He slowly put down his bottle of beer and got to his feet, head shaking slowly from side to side. He looked worried as he walked across the room, turned around and walked back again, avoiding every obstacle expertly.  “That’s not good," he said eventually.  “You don't want this, Foggy.  Believe me."

Foggy frowned, staring at his former best friend.  "What do you mean? What about all that stuff about it being useful?” he asked.

“It is…it can be. But at the same time, it will change everything.  It'll break things you didn't even know could be broken.”

He was referring to their friendship, Foggy was sure of it. He shook his head.  "It'll be fine," he said.  But Matt had been telling the truth or at the very least he had believed what he was saying.  Foggy attempted to squash down the seeds of panic growing inside him.  "It'll be fine," he repeated.

"I care about you, Foggy," Matt told him.  "You know that, right?"

"I guess I do now," Foggy replied as the certain knowledge that Matt was speaking the truth washed over him. Despite everything, that certainty felt good, reassuring.

Matt smiled tightly.  “We’re going to find a way to fix this,” he promised. “Until we do, you have to keep it to yourself, okay?”

“Okay.”

Matt frowned. “Who have you told?” he asked.

Foggy shook his head. “I trust her,” he said. “She said she wasn’t going to tell anyone, and she was telling the truth.”

“Who?”

Foggy closed his eyes. It had been a stupid mistake, he knew that, but he did trust her. “Marci Stahl,” he said.  
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Karen looked nervous as she drank her beer, staring around the bar as though she expected someone to pounce on her at any moment.

"What's up with you?" Foggy asked her.

She shook her head, “Nothing.”

He didn’t even need his new ability to tell that that was a lie. Or, maybe he did. He wasn’t sure whether the way she glanced away as she spoke had been a tell, or whether he had made it into one to justify his knowledge.

She finished her drink. “Want another one?” she asked.

Foggy shrugged. “If you’ll tell me what’s bothering you.”

She got to her feet and turned in the direction of the bar. “Nothing, honestly. Just a tough day at work.”

It was another lie. He couldn’t call her on it or probe deeper, not without giving himself away. He couldn’t give himself away because it would result in her watching what she said around him for the rest of their lives, much as he now realized he had been doing with Matt since he found out his secret. Foggy finished his drink.  
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“So, how’s my favorite human lie detector?”

Foggy’s eyes widened in panic as he glanced around for anyone that might have heard. it didn’t look like anybody had. He glared back at Marci reproachfully.

She shrugged. “What?”

He dropped his voice to a whisper. “You want to say that a bit louder? I don’t think that woman over there heard you.”

Marci shrugged. “Sorry. I was actually hoping you were going to say it was fixed.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’d love to,” he said. “But no such luck.”

Marci frowned and moved toward the bar. Foggy followed her. “So, not wanting to make assumptions about tonight, but I’m looking forward to seeing your new place.”

Marci smiled and opened her mouth to answer, then clamped it closed again. “I bet you are,” she said

He raised a hand to call the barman over, and was ignored. “So, how’s your case going?”

Marci shifted a little uncomfortably in her seat and didn’t say anything.

“Um,” tried Foggy, “What about the new apartment, you setting in alright?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s good. Got all my stuff moved in yesterday, just got to finish unpack…” she stopped.

There had been a lie in there somewhere. He wasn’t sure whether it had been the part about the apartment being good, or moving her stuff in. Either way, she didn’t want him to know something.

“Marci,” he said. “Do I freak you out now?”

She shook her head, then shrugged. “No. Yes…Maybe, a little.” She screwed up her face apologetically. “Sorry. It’s just I was thinking about the things you said last time I saw you, all the problems this might cause and… it’s just going to take a bit of time, you know?”

Foggy ran his fingers through his hair. The new style still didn’t feel quite right. He nodded. “I do know, so I’m going to go. Call me when you’re ready, okay? Or I’ll call when it’s gone.” He got to his feet, and for a second he thought that Marci was going to ask him to stay. She didn’t.

He tried to convince himself that he didn’t care.  
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Foggy walked the street slowly, breathing in the night air and trying not to scream with frustration. He turned a corner and realized he was on Matt’s street. Nothing to lose, he pushed the front door to Matt’s building, the faulty lock let him in without a key, and he took the stairs to Matt’s apartment. He knocked on the door and waited. There was no answer.  
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Karen knew about Matt. She had known for a while, apparently, though both she and Matt had neglected to share the information. That was fine, he had been dealing with his own crap; new job, new co-workers, new and frustrating power.

“So how do you feel about it?” he asked her. He couldn’t help but be curious. His own reaction had been less than admirable. Karen and Matt were clearly still on speaking terms, so it had gone a little better with her.

Karen shrugged, “I dunno.”

That was a lie. Of course it was a lie, how could she possibly not know? He leaned in a little closer and gave her an unconvinced look, and she shrugged.

“It’s weird,” she said. “But it’s okay. It’s good.”

She was lying again. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Karen lied almost habitually. Not always big stuff like this, but everything. The topping she wanted on her pizza, whether she wanted another drink, how she had spend the previous evening. He couldn’t work out why; whether it was some defense mechanism, whether she was saying what she thought he wanted to hear, or whether she was just fucking with him, trying to see how far she could push it.

Whatever it was, it was something she had been doing for such a long time that it was ingrained in her now, something she would probably do for the rest of her life.

It made him want to scream.  
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“She always has,” Matt said. “I mean, the average person tells a lot more lies than you might realize…”

“Believe me, I’ve noticed,” Foggy told him.

Matt laughed. “But Karen, it’s like she’s trying to… I don’t even know.”

“It’s like she knows and she’s just trying to get me to admit it.”

Matt smiled, but shook his head, “Don’t,” he said.

Foggy frowned. “Believe me, I already learned that lesson with Marci. I haven’t spoken to her in two weeks.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Matt said. 

Foggy shrugged. “Back to less depressing stuff,” he said.

“Karen, the lying, it’s just who she is. You’ve got to try to ignore it.”

“I am. It’s actually helpful, believe it or not. Getting used to being around her and not screaming actually helps with the rest of the world.”  
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His phone rang late on a Saturday night. He glanced at the caller ID and saw Marci’s name. He answered it warily.

“How’s the Simon Frasier case coming?” Marci asked, without any introduction or pleasantries.

“Um,” Foggy shrugged. “Fine thanks. I think I can win it.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “How?” Marci asked.

“Why?” he asked.

She laughed. “You don’t get me that easily. Just answer the question, Foggy.”

He shook his head in exasperation. “Fine, well, he became inhuman when he was exposed to terrigen via a supplement he was taking, but the thing is, most of the kids in his class were taking the same supplements because their gym teacher recommended them. It stands to reason that more of them will have been exposed to the terrigen, if any of them are also inhuman, they might have the ability to change their appearance, or manipulate the surveillance footage. If they had a grudge against Simon, or just chose him to save themselves… I think we have enough for reasonable doubt.”

“It’s risky. I heard the clerk that got hurt took a turn for the worse. If he dies, they’ll charge your client with murder and he’ll never get out. Why don’t you try to cut a deal? He could be out in five years.”

Foggy took a deep breath. “Five years seems a little steep when he hasn’t actually done anything wrong,” he said.

“That’s debatable. He might not have broken into the store and hurt that guy, but what about what he did to you? You said yourself there’s nothing you can do about it without upsetting your new boss and telling the world you’re a walking lie detector, this could be your revenge. Nobody would know, just say it was the best you could do, they’ll be happy with it.”

“Simon would know,” Foggy said.

Marci laughed. “Well, that’s the point. Not much point getting revenge if he doesn’t realize it..” 

“I don’t want revenge,” Foggy said. “I want it gone, but he didn’t mean to do it, so…”

She sighed, and her voice took on a whining quality. “Please, Foggy? I want revenge. I miss you, but I can’t… I…”

“You can’t stand being around me,” Foggy finished for her.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Marci insisted.

Foggy laughed down the line. “Sure it wasn’t. Call me when you’re sober, okay?”  
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“Something ridiculous happened yesterday,” Foggy said.

"Oh?" Matt asked.

Foggy felt the corners of his lips twitch into a smile. “People had been lying to me all day. It was a Friday, so I asked a few coworkers if they had plans for the evening and they all lied. Then there was the whispering that stopped whenever I got close. Plus, it was my birthday, so it was pretty obvious. In the end, I collared my secretary…”

“Is the point of this story to make me aware that you have your own secretary?” Matt interjected.

“No, that’s just a byproduct. So I asked him straight out, are they throwing a surprise party? Poor guy didn’t know what to say. He told me no. Here’s the twist though, turns out he was telling the truth. The whole thing was just in my paranoid head.”

"You hate surprise parties anyway," Matt told him. 

"I know. Which is where the ridiculous comes in. Just before I left, I walked into the conference room and found a surprise party. Now I don’t know whether he ran off to tell everyone and they organized it quickly so I didn’t feel bad, or whether they just didn’t tell him because they knew he’d let it slip. The guy is literally the worst liar I’ve ever met, and I thought that before the… you know.”

“So there’s a good chance that everyone at your work threw you a surprise party because they felt sorry for you,” Matt said.

Foggy sighed. “Yup, but I’m going to work on the assumption that my secretary didn’t know. Otherwise they got a personalized cake made really quickly. One day I’ll learn to keep my mouth shut.”

Matt laughed again and Foggy folded his arms and glared as though he was offended. The expression was totally lost on Matt, who reached for a paper bag that had gone unnoticed by the wall and handed it to Foggy. “Talking of birthdays,” he said.

Foggy frowned as he opened the package. He pulled out a t-shirt, red, with custom printed words in black across the front. “Captain Polygraph?”

“Well, if you’re going to have a power,” Matt said. “Trust me, this is more subtle than some of the other things I came up with.”

Foggy laughed and held the t-shirt over chest. “Thanks,” he said, “I’ll treasure it. But only in private.”

“Good idea,” Matt told him. “At least until you get the matching cape I’ve ordered you for Christmas.”

Foggy balled the t-shirt between his hands and tossed it across the room. Matt didn’t bother to dodge, and it hit him square in the chest. Foggy smiled. Things were starting to feel much more normal.  
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There was no feeling on Earth quite like winning a case for an innocent man, like shaking hands with your client and knowing that they are going to walk free because of you.

The grin on Simon’s face said it all as they walked out of court through a sea of reporters, ignoring their questions until they made a statement, but making no attempt to avoid the cameras.

Simon reached out to shake Foggy’s hand. “Thank you,” he said. “You have no idea what this means to me, especially after I… you know.”

Foggy nodded. “You’re welcome. And you were right, it’s not so bad, once you get used to it. Which doesn’t mean I don’t want a call when you find a way to take it away.”

Simon nodded, but if he was going to say anything else, it was lost as his father approached him and pulled him into a tight embrace before they walked out to meet the waiting cameras and reporters outside the courthouse.  
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The phone rang just after eight, while he was still out celebrating with his new colleagues. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered without even checking who was calling. Marci’s voice at the other end surprised him.

“Hey Foggy,” she said.

He paused, not sure how to react. “Marci,” he said.

“I heard what happened,” she told him. “Congratulations. And you were right, what I told you to do, it wouldn't have been fair.”

Foggy picked up his drink with his free hand and moved to a quieter area of the bar. “What do you want, Marci?” he asked.

“To apologize,” she told him. “And to be friends again, if you’ll have me.”

He thought about it. “We’re at O’Reilly’s,” he said. “Why don’t you come down? I’ll let you buy me a drink.”

There was a pause at the end of the line. It might have been hesitation, it might have been his imagination. “I’m on my way,” she said.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

Foggy slung one arm around Matt’s shoulder, the other around Karen’s and pulled them both in the direction of their usual table at Josie’s. It felt strange being back, but in other ways it felt entirely natural. Like coming home.

Foggy ordered a round of drinks, but paid upfront to avoid the temptation of re-opening their fabled tab.

He looked at his two friends, and they were friends again, finally, they had passed through the realm of uneasy truce and back into easy company. Karen smiled widely.

“What?” Foggy asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just so happy to see you guys being friends again.”

Foggy smiled back at her. It was the truth, and it was beautiful.


End file.
